TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga) (11 page)

Queen Harla Leluc was a short, bronze skinned woman of thirty-nine. Her brown eyes were now reddened from impending tears. Her black hair looked disheveled and she was overweight, but not as much as her husband. She stared at the daughter who had caused the immense pain to her jaw.

“And what are we to do with you?” Leimur asked.

“I don’t know exactly what you have done. But you will need strong counsel to rule a realm,” the Queen reminded her.

“So right you are again. You are wise. I shall heed that advice. General Rigby, come in here please,” she commanded.

The haggard General stepped into the room. The Queen didn’t even attempt to cover herself.

“General, what should we do with our Queen of Goldenfield?” Leimur wondered.

“What are her charges?” calmly asked Rigby.

“She is charged with treason, and with putting everyone in Goldenfield in danger of their lives through a rule of ignorance and overindulgence.”

“Why not let the people decide her fate? If she has served them well, they will come to her aid,” the General counseled.

“Great advice. Thank you for your recommendation about counsel, my Queen,” Leimur sarcastically stated. “Tie her hands behind her back and take her to the front steps.”

“Can I at least put on clothes and have some dignity?” her mother begged.

“You have already shown your dignity in this room. You are lucky I don’t parade you around the city so you may be stoned and beaten with sticks. Father didn’t even teach you not to get caught with your pants down. Nothing shall conceal your treason against Goldenfield,” Leimur said, raising her voice.

She rushed downstairs to be greeted by hundreds of supporters gathered inside the palace doors. Leimur had brought some from the eastern front and picked up others along the way.

This is amazing. General Rigby could have done this a long time ago if he wanted to.
Why didn’t he?

They pushed open the ten-foot high doors to expose Leimur. She walked up to the front entrance a princess, and moved outside to her throngs of citizens as their Queen.

A crowd of thousands flooded the city and erupted in elation when Leimur walked out to the top of the marble steps. The rich intermingled with the poor in an extremely rare show of kingdom unity. Goldenfield had been plagued with lots of infighting due to taxes being too high and unreasonable. General Rigby handed the golden crown of the land to Leimur. She held it high in the air as the crowds exploded again. It was too big to fit her head so she just held it in her hand as she orated over the audience.

“My people, the tyranny is over. All citizens of Goldenfield, we must work together to return this realm to greatness…”

Before she could finish, the mob cheered again.

When they calmed down, the new Queen continued, “We have our first decision to make as a new Goldenfield is born. Your former Queen, Harla Leluc has been charged with treason against Goldenfield.”

Queen Harla was pushed out to the delight of the jubilant people.

Leimur went on, “We will either put her to death or exile her to another land to live out her days. All in favor of the Queen being exiled speak up now.”

A hush fell over the boisterous citizens with no one rising up in the Queen’s defense. The crowd remained silent for a few moments and then broke out into pandemonium. She stood disgraced, with people shouting about her fat body, along with any other insult that could be articulated. “Gluttonous whore” seemed to be the phrase most often used.

“Now, all in favor of death…”

Before she could complete the words, the Goldenfield crowd went crazy, clapping, stomping and screaming. The Queen was led over to the chopping block reserved for the king’s justice and placed over it. The stinging embarrassment made the Queen welcome a quick death. The undertaker drew a mighty sword and held it in the air to the delight of the crowd. Leimur stepped in to stop the executioner. She couldn’t let him do it.

“I will carry out the people’s wish myself,” Leimur stated.

Dusk started easing in as the purple and blue skyline was being flushed away, like the rule of overt excess at its worst. Leimur pulled her sword and got swept up in the chaotic wailing coming from her people. She understood the pent-up aggression from decades of abuse. Leimur felt like a liberator, walking on air as she approached the former Queen.

“You have been found guilty of treason against Goldenfield. Your people have spoken and now you shall pay with your life,” she confidently proclaimed.

The sword gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun. Leimur took a deep breath. She raised the sharp steel above her head and brought it straight down, cleanly taking off her mother’s head. Power effectively transferred from the old Queen to the new one with just a single swing of the sword. The moment was surreal for Leimur. She stood, shaking, and looked at her new people. She thought that her heart might explode from her chest. Everything slowed down for Leimur and her ears fell silent for a moment, but then the roaring returned.

“Put it on a spike,” urged the townspeople. More raunchy remarks rose from the faithful citizens. “Where is the King? We want his head on a spike too.”

The Leluc family had ruled Goldenfield for the past two hundred and eighty years. While there had been some violent power struggles throughout the years, nothing rivaled this hostile takeover. Leimur Leluc always thought power was best earned. In her mind, she’d just earned it. A broken, wayward Princess had left the Capitol four years ago in disgrace to be sacrificed. But she had now returned, hero to most, Queen Leimur to all.

The people of Goldenfield now started to speak as one. Leimur couldn’t make out the message at first, but it grew louder and stronger.

They were chanting, “TWO HEADS, TWO SPIKES. TWO HEADS, TWO SPIKES.”

Queen Leimur Leluc turned to General Rigby, “Bring me my father’s head. I must give my people what they want.”

Death is part of life.

The Frozen Forest generally caused more problems than it provided answers to life’s quandaries. As a result, solutions didn’t rush into the frosty head of Russell Seabrook. He only knew he was slightly hungry. The trees and bushes were completely covered in ice, which hid their once brilliant colors. The ground was thick permafrost that proved difficult to navigate. An occasional howl of the wind was the only sound to be heard in the deathly silence since animals didn’t even go into the Frozen Forest. There was nothing to eat for the animals. Legend said that snow bears hibernated in the Forest, but Russell had never seen one.

The Frozen Forest only thawed for about one month during the height of the summer harvest season. It caused high tides in Donegal when it melted every year. But by and large, it was a frigid, unforgiving, cold-hearted place. Ali-Pari begged him not to go, but Russell felt a strange need to get away. He did not mind being alone and the cold never really bothered him, so it was a natural choice. Russell slipped on the slick surface and fell on his back. After gathering himself, he rolled over onto his stomach to push himself up with his hands.

“OH SHITE,” screamed Russell as he quickly backed away.

Russell saw an old, dead man buried beneath the ice. He crept back for a second look. He looked again to see a very ugly, wart-covered small man. The dwarf had long white hair and lay there nude, but appeared as peaceful as could be under the freeze. Russell tapped the ice over the face of the dead man, first softly, then harder. When he finally stopped, the man’s eyes suddenly fluttered open and Russell quickly sprang to his feet and backed away. The knight turned to leave when he heard water splashing. A quick glance behind him showed the ancient-looking dwarf sitting in a puddle of water and rubbing his eyes. Russell started to run away.

“Stop. Wait. I am not going to hurt you. Look at me.”

Sir Russell Seabrook stopped for a moment. He always ran from his problems. Fear had won his internal battles in the past, but he decided that must end. Russell spun around to look at the little man.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the shivering man.

“What in the hells are you?” Russell asked.

The little man smiled, “You should curse less and think more. I am but a man, same as you.”

The small guy stood only a little more than half of Russell’s height and he slumped over as if his years on earth were pounding him into the ground. He was a hairy creature with gray fur covering most of his calloused body. Then Russell made eye contact.

The fire is in his eyes
.

“My name is Sir Russell Seabrook. What is yours, my friend?”

The still sleepy man yawned and said in a slow drawl, “I am known by many names in many languages, my very young knight. I suppose Dragon-Eyes or Imp Wizard are the ones people always tend to recognize.”

Russell got excited, “I thought so, but I always thought the stories about you were made up. I didn’t know you really existed. How old are you anyway?”

“Well, let’s see, who is king right now?”

Russell quickly answered, “King Ali-Stanley Wamhoff.”

“Oh, he still is. And how old is our great King?” the elder man asked trying to shake the effects of hibernation from his body.

Ali-Pari is seventy, so he is five years younger
.

“He is sixty-five years old,” Russell quickly told him.

The Imp Wizard thought for a moment, “Alright, four, five, six, carry the two and it looks like four hundred and sixty-seven years on earth. Well, including some spent underneath as you just saw.”

“What? No, you can’t possibly be that old. Nobody can be that old,” an awestruck Russell awkwardly rebutted.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any food in those bags, would you?” smiled Dragon-Eyes.

“Of course I do,” said Russell as he opened the leather sack, exposing the contents.

“What would you like, Dragon-Eyes?”

Russell had a veritable smorgasbord to offer. He had salted beef jerky, pickled pork, dried sausages and different types of fruit. There were spring apples, plums and water chestnuts. Russell also had a half loaf of stale bread at the bottom of the bag.

The old dwarf’s eyes lit up and his mouth began to water as he feebly asked a question, “So you would help an old, decrepit, poor excuse for a man and give me some of your precious food?”

“Of course I would,” responded Russell without hesitation. “You are but a man, same as me, just slightly smaller,” said Russell with a smile.

Dragon-Eyes smiled back at Sir Russell, “My boy, how would you like to go on a great adventure with a wise old soul who can show you amazing things?”

They both ate while the conversation continued.

Russell wasn’t sure how to put this, “It sounds like a great offer, really, but you aren’t exactly fleet of foot, I am sorry to say.”

The Imp Wizard stared at Russell with his fiery eyes. “What if I told you that within an hour’s time I can fade back to forty-six and a half years of age? Well, a touch more actually, but what say you now?”

Russell smiled at the weary old man, “I would say you have about an hour.”

“Off we are now,” said Dragon-Eyes as he slowly led the way even though Russell knew he was trying to move fast.

It wasn’t as cold as Russell expected so he threw his extra fur cloak to the old man.

“No thank you, my boy. It will only slow me down and might make me fall back into a slumber,” he said even as he shivered.

Russell took it back and stuffed it into his bag. Luckily, it wasn’t snowing right now, but that could change at any moment. The saltwater spray storm from Typhoon Alley turned to ice as it crossed the Frozen Forest, producing treacherous conditions. He had been caught in a few storms out here that threatened to steal his life. The Imp Wizard led him into an area that was foreign to Russell.

On looking at the sun, he figured it had been about an hour, when the wizard proudly stated, “There it is, my friend.”

The old Imp breathed heavily but still wore a big grin. They appeared to be in an odd sort of clearing. There were seven rolling glaciers surrounding the pair, meeting in the middle where the two men stood. They were steep, vertical waterfalls, bitten by frost.

The Imp Wizard walked slowly in a circle in front of the frozen springs, staring deeply at each one. After the seventh round, he waddled up to one of the glaciers. With a flash, fire shot out of both of the wizard’s eyes, melting the solid ice. The flames retracted and the Imp approached the running waterfall. He disappeared under the water for quite a long time, prompting Russell to get closer and closer to the falling water. He still couldn’t see the little guy even when he got about five feet from the rushing water. He turned around to see if this was some wizard’s trick, but no one was to be seen anywhere. He turned back toward the waterfall and there was still no sign of the little man. He looked straight down and into the eyes of fire. Russell stumbled backwards, shocked at the stunning sight before him.

The Imp Wizard had told the truth. He looked infinitely younger and like someone who could lead him on a great adventure. Although still very ugly, his gray hair had turned light brown, and his skin wasn’t sagging anymore. The new man had muscle tone and the warts were gone. It seemed like the heated waters had washed away the years right before his very eyes, a youthful fountain of sorts.

“So, my hour to prove myself appears to be up,” Dragon-Eyes stated in a much deeper, manlier tone than before.

Russell just gazed at him with a goofy look, “Should I even ask how that happened?”

The Imp returned the grin and shook his head, “Not quite yet, my boy.”

“We need to get you some clothes, but in the meanwhile, here.” Russell tossed the dwarf the spare cloak again and this time he humbly accepted.

“I have some belongings in the Forest. If we could pick them up before we embark on our journey, I would thank you,” the Imp Wizard said.

“Well, first I need to know what kind of journey you are talking about,” Russell said carefully.

He had heard stories of wizards who used tricks to get people to carry out their wishes.